


hold me now ('til the fear is leaving)

by just_another_outcast



Series: the scenes we deserve (episode tags) [11]
Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Episode Tag, Episode: s01e11 Alone Time, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Jessica Whitly is a Good Parent, Malcolm Bright Gets a Hug, Malcolm Bright Needs a Hug, Malcolm Bright Whump, Papa Gil, Protective Gil Arroyo, Tag to 1x11, Team as Family, blink and you'll miss it Brightwell, but they're not featured enough for me to tag them, coda to 1x11, he gets carried, technically Ainsley and JT are there too, thats close enough, well kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:20:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24819046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_another_outcast/pseuds/just_another_outcast
Summary: Watkins is dealt with, and his family is safe, but Malcolm is exhausted and hurting. Gil arrives not a moment too soon, and as long as Gil is around, Malcolm knows he's safe.(tag to 1x11, Alone Time)
Relationships: Gil Arroyo & Malcolm Bright, Malcolm Bright & Jessica Whitly
Series: the scenes we deserve (episode tags) [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1782832
Comments: 10
Kudos: 143





	hold me now ('til the fear is leaving)

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from the song Hold Me Now by Red, which I highly highly highly recommend you listen to. Okay now obviously I've been really looking forward to this one. Even my dad was mad when this episode didn't have any "resolution with the team", as he put it lol. So here's the comfort that this ep really needed. I hope you enjoy, and please leave a review!

Next time people were sharing bad holiday stories, Malcolm was pretty sure he had them all beat. He was pretty sure that no one would be able to top his harrowing tale of finding a man dead with his throat slit, being berated by a creepy old woman, being kidnapped by that same old woman's serial killing grandson and chained to the floor, getting stabbed, being forced to break his own hand in order to escape, and shoving his kidnapper into a trunk to save his family. He certainly had the market cornered on bad holiday stories. It was only that thought that kept Malcolm from completely falling apart in his mother and sister's arms.

As it was, he was barely standing, his mother and Ainsley taking most of his weight. Someone shouted from downstairs, causing all three of them to tense up. Malcolm whimpered, gripping his mom with his good hand while she held onto him and Ainsley even tighter. He couldn't take anything else. If Watkins somehow got out of that trunk, Malcolm wasn't sure he would have the strength to do anything about it.

"It's alright, darling," his mom said. "It's the police, it's just the police. Which means there should be an ambulance close behind. Let's get you both downstairs."

Malcolm allowed himself to be disentangled from the embrace, but he didn't let up on his grip on his mother's blouse. Ainsley didn't either. Both of them were gripping the shoulders of their mother's blouse, just like they had as children. Malcolm's hand was shaking, causing the chain to rattle loudly in the otherwise silent room. But with every small step the three of them took, the noise from downstairs grew louder. Malcolm could hear his team.

"Gil," he called out lightly, his voice shaking just as much as the chain. There was no way that the man could have heard him.

"Lieutenant," his mom called out a little louder as they reached the top of the stairs. JT appeared at the bottom, the man's eyes immediately drawn to the chain hanging from Malcolm's wrist.

"They're okay!" he shouted over his shoulder. Dani and Gil quickly appeared next to him, both visibly sighing in relief. Gil jogged up the stairs, and it was all Malcolm could do to not fall into his arms.

"Gil," he repeated, taking the smallest step towards him and finally relinquishing his grip on his mother's blouse. He began to reach out for Gil, but the man was faster, and quickly gathered Malcolm into his arms, holding him tightly but gently. This time, his broken hand wasn't jostled, since Malcolm had left it hanging by his side.

"I'm so glad you're alive," Gil said, his voice thick with emotion.

The moment Gil spoke, it was like the strings that had been holding Malcolm up were finally cut, and he succumbed to the blood loss and exhaustion. His knees buckled and he fell about a foot before Gil expertly caught him and scooped him up in his arms. He cried out at the pain from the pressure change on his stab wound. Malcolm managed a light grip with his good hand on the back of Gil's shoulder. The chain swung to and fro, lightly hitting Gil's back and refusing to let people forget it was there.

"Get him to the ambulance, please," his mother pleaded. Through half-lidded eyes, Malcolm could see her holding Ainsley mostly upright. His sister's eyes were nearly closed, blood still seeping sluggishly from the wound.

"Oh, kid," Gil muttered as he began to carry Malcolm as carefully as he could down the stairs. Malcolm's head was on Gil's shoulder, his stab wound getting blood all over the man's sweater. Malcolm would pay to get it dry cleaned later. "What did he do to you?"

"Stabbed," Malcolm managed to mutter in reply. It was getting harder to keep his eyes open. It was okay to fall asleep, right? He was safe now, safe in Gil's arms. Everything was going to be okay.

"You stay awake, alright?" Gil told him. "Can you do that for me, please?" Well, if Gil really needed him to, he would try as hard as he could.

"You're gonna be okay, Bright," Dani said, appearing next to him. They'd reached the bottom of the stairs. She was so beautiful. "Hey, listen to me," she ordered, and Malcolm complied. He'd do anything for her. Gil wasn't walking anymore. They had stopped, but they weren't outside yet, and Malcolm couldn't hear any EMTs. "I'm gonna set your hand on your lap, okay? I don't want it to swing around and get hurt even worse." That was all the warning Malcolm got before she took a gentle hold of his broken and bloody hand and guided it up to rest on his chest, away from the still bleeding stab wound. He let out a keening wail at the touch, driving his head further into Gil's shoulder, as if Gil could make all the pain go away. "It's okay, Bright. You did good," Dani continued, but Malcolm was only focused on breathing through the pain. He felt rather than saw Gil start to move again, resuming his journey of carefully bringing him to an ambulance. The ambulance must not have been there yet, otherwise he would've been placed on a stretcher by an EMT.

The telltale sound of sirens answered Malcolm's unasked question. The ambulance was just arriving. They would need more than one.

"Where is he?!" shouted a deranged voice from the next room over. Malcolm's blood went cold. It was Watkins. They'd taken him out of the trunk and he was enraged, his voice filled with unbridled fury. "Malcolm! I'm not finished with you!"

He started to shake in Gil's arms, and hid his face in the man's shoulder. "It's okay, he can't get you," Gil whispered to him.

"Keep him away from my family," his mother practically growled. Malcolm opened his eyes to see her standing right behind Gil, Ainsley still clasped onto her. "It's okay, baby, we're all okay," she said with tears in her eyes. "The officers have him under control."

"You don't even have to see him," Gil added. He started walking a little faster towards the door, and soon enough they were outside in the brisk winter air. At least Malcolm could blame his shaking on the cold. He could still hear Watkins screaming from outside, but he couldn't understand if the man was saying anything intelligible. "Swanson is in there keeping Watkins contained too, and JT won't let him get away, he's not gonna let Watkins get you, your mother, or your sister. You're safe now, I promise," Gil said, holding onto him just a little bit tighter.

Just at Gil's words, Malcolm could feel his fear fading. Even the mention of Swanson wasn't enough to add any anxiety. Gil would never lie to him. If Gil said he was safe, then he was safe. The weight of everything that happened began to hang heavily on Malcolm once again, draining all of the remaining energy he had.

"I've got you, kid," Gil repeated. "I'm not going anywhere." Even as Malcolm felt Gil setting him down on something soft - a stretcher, right outside the ambulance, the only fully functioning part of his brain supplied - he didn't doubt that Gil still had him. But what about his family?

"Mom?" he called out, his voice scratchy. "Ains?" He reached out for them with his good hand, the chain once again clanking loudly to make itself known, and breathed a sigh of relief when his mother grabbed a hold of his hand.

"It's okay, love," she said. "Gil is going to stay with you, and we're going to make sure that they put you and your sister in the same room tonight. They'll want to keep her overnight for observation, at the very least. But you have to go to the hospital right now, and I need to stay with Ainsley. I will get to you as soon as I can, I promise," she said, her voice breaking. Tears were streaming down her face, and Malcolm knew that he probably looked the same.

In the tiny, rational, still operating part of Malcolm's brain, he knew that was logical - he was in bad shape, he needed immediate medical attention, the ambulance couldn't fit two EMTs as well as Malcolm, Gil, Ainsley, and their mother, and there was no way that Malcolm was going to not have Gil with him - but the hurting and exhausted from terror part of his brain, which was significantly more active, was crying out, because he just wanted his mom to hold him.

"We have to go," an unknown voice said, likely one of the EMTs.

"I'll see you soon, baby, I promise," his mom said, her grip on his good hand falling away. The chain rattled once again.

"Mom," he called back out reflexively, hearing her crying as the stretcher was pulled up into the ambulance. The door closed with a slam. Another hand quickly took his mother's place, a rougher, but more gentle hand. "Gil," he muttered, and the hand holding his squeezed.

"I'm right here, kid," Gil said. Despite the pain in his side and his hand, and the new pinprick at his elbow, Malcolm felt himself relaxing once more. It was over. It was all over. His family was safe, and Gil had him. And he was so damn tired. He just wanted to sleep.

"'M so tired," he mumbled, his eyes fluttering.

"It's okay," Gil said. His calming voice washed over Malcolm like an oncoming tide: slow, gentle, inevitable. "You can sleep now. I'll be right here when you wake up, I promise."

Malcolm didn't even care if they'd sedated him. No nightmare could hurt him. Gil was right there, protecting him. Gil wasn't going to let anything happen to him. He could sleep in peace and safety. Gil would keep him safe...

...

By the time Malcolm woke up, everything was over. His side had been stitched up, his hand had been casted, and the gash on his head had been closed, likely with butterfly bandages. He wasn't shaking anymore. Underneath several blankets and a hospital gown, he was comfortably warm. The harsh coldness of the chain was gone, replaced with a bandage encircling his wrist.

Struggling to keep his tired eyes open, Malcolm assessed the room. Gil was right next to him, as promised. His chair was as close to the bed as possible, and he was asleep, with his head resting on his arms, which he had pooled right next to Malcolm. Even in his sleep, he was still holding Malcolm's hand. Malcolm didn't want to change that.

Moving his head to look at the other side of the room was a monumental task, but Malcolm managed it. Just as she'd promised, his mom was there too, in the same position as Gil, but on the other bed, where Ainsley was. The both of them were asleep as well. Malcolm could see in the faint light that Ainsley's head wound had been closed with steri strips.

He felt a weight lifted off him as he relaxed back into the bed, his head falling back to its previous position, towards Gil. His family was okay. His mother and sister were fine, and his dad- well, his dad was right there next to him, just like he'd promised to be.

"Hey, kiddo," Gil whispered, his voice groggy with sleep. Either Malcolm had somehow woken him, or Gil had sensed that Malcolm was awake, even in his own sleep. Either option seemed equally likely. "How do you feel?"

"Safe," Malcolm muttered. On some level, he knew the plethora of drugs running through his system, along with the immense amount of pain and terror he'd experienced and his extreme exhaustion, were all working together to make him extra vulnerable and willing to say anything that came to mind. Malcolm found that he didn't care. He could blame it all on the drugs anyway. "I'm with you. You keep us safe." Malcolm didn't have a single nightmare after he'd fallen asleep - or passed out, depending on how one chose to look at it - in the ambulance. That was all the proof his battered mind and body needed that Gil would keep them all safe.

It was getting harder to keep his eyes open. He was going to fall back asleep, and with Gil right there, Malcolm was grateful for the rest. He knew his rest would be peaceful.

"You always keep me safe," he muttered, letting his eyes close.

"That's all I want to do," Gil whispered in reply, his voice breaking.

"'Cause that's what dads do, and you're my dad," Malcolm managed to say, adding to his words a squeeze of Gil's hand, which was still holding his own. With Gil around, nothing bad was going to happen to him. With Gil around, he was always safe.

Gil squeezed his hand back, and Malcolm had never felt more secure. As long as he had Gil, everything was going to be okay.


End file.
